The Interview That Shook the Games
by SquintyEye
Summary: Do you ever wonder whose idea it was that Peeta do his interview training separately from Katniss? Why did he choose the interview to admit he had a crush on her? My take on why it happened as it did in The Hunger Games. R&R and I'll post others!
1. Chapter 1

I cleared my throat and pushed open the ornate door.

"You wanted to see me?"

My mentor was sitting with his back to me, gazing out the window into the bustle of the Capitol. I watched him take a swig of alcohol from his flask, but he didn't turn to face me.

I had always been unfailingly polite to people. With my parents working in a service industry like baking, I had to be congenial. Plus, I lucked out and got my father's personality. My mother, well… She was unpleasant at best. Dad though, he was quick to smile and forgive, as am I. But, Haymitch was pissing me off right now. He'd sent a note to my room that we needed to speak privately immediately. So, here I was and yet, he didn't even acknowledge me. There were far better things I could do with my time than look at the back of his drunken skull. I could lift weights. I could work on my knife skills. I could try to memorize what plants I could eat without dying. Hell, I could go to my room and watch TV. All would be a better use of my time than this. I clenched my fists at my sides and closed my eyes, silently counting to ten so I wouldn't snap.

I opened my eyes and jumped when he was standing right in front of me. _No wonder he was able to be a Victor. The man moves like a cat when he wants to, _I thought, impressed in spite of myself. I was not so lucky. I could make cakes so light that they seemed to be made of air and paint a flower with photographic realism, but ever since I hit puberty and had a couple of substantial growth spurts I'd been clumsy and a bit awkward in my own body.

"Does she know?"

I cocked my head to the side and looked at him questioningly, but I felt a weird sinking sensation in my stomach. _Does she know? How does HE know?_ I supposed that he could be talking about something else, so I tried to laugh. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Haymitch." I strode past him into the room, carefully pulling the heavy oak door shut behind me as I went.

"Yeah, OK, kid. Play dumb. It doesn't really make a difference." He shrugged and walked over to the wet bar set up in the room. There were multiple crystal bottles filled with varying shades of liquid. He seemed to know what he wanted, though, because he grabbed a bottle of an amber fluid that I could smell from where I stood and took a long pull, straight from the ornate vessel.

I sat down on the deep blue velvet sofa and fingered the fringe of a throw pillow. Haymitch took another long swallow from the bottle and then, carrying it, started for the door.

"Wait!" I needed someone to talk to. I had questions that begged for answers. My life would probably end in a few days' time and I needed help to die with as few regrets as possible. Even if the man was a drunk, he was still a man and he was better than nothing.

Haymitch stopped, his hand on the doorknob and shook his head. "Go to bed, kid. It's late and sleep will be at a premium for you soon enough."

He started to open the door and I was behind him, slamming it back shut and spinning him to pin him against the wall, the crystal decanter smashing onto the floor. "No, dammit. You called me here because you had questions," I didn't even sound like myself. My voice was guttural and I realized I was holding him a few inches off of the floor. I released my grip on his collar and stepped back self-consciously, dropping my gaze to the floor. "Sorry," I mumbled. I guess I had some of my mother's temper in me. Instead of making me feel sick, though, I felt a glimmer of hope that I could be a survivor, yet.

"You know, kid, just when I think you might have grown a pair, you go back into the nice guy routine." Haymitch chuckled as he straightened his shirt collar. "I can't believe you made me waste that." He looked mournfully at the spilled liquid and I couldn't help but smile.

He shook his head and walked back to the wet bar. He reached into the cabinet and pulled down two glasses and he poured some white liquor into each. Haymitch walked over to me and handed me a glass. "_Salute_, kid," he said before he downed his glass in one long gulp.

"I don't drink." I felt like he was testing me, just to see if I would try to impress him, but it wasn't my style and I'd always been confident in being myself. Besides, the idea of turning out like him made me even more certain of my refusal.

"Too bad," Haymitch reached out and took the glass from me. "It's the only damn thing that gets me through the nights." He knocked it back as well and I wondered what he meant.

He gestured to the sofa and I sat down, feeling nervous.

Haymitch set the now empty glasses down on the table and turned to regard me silently.

I sat, unable to meet his gaze for some reason.

"Well?"

"Well what?" I asked, finally looking up at him.

"Jesus, kid. You're either dumb as a rock or else you've never told a soul that you have a crush on that girl."

"Well, sir, I'm not exactly stupid," I responded, feeling that by looking him in the eye I would get enough respect that he wouldn't laugh at me or anything. Because, even if he was right and I'd never told a soul that I was in love with Katniss, I needed him to help me find peace with it.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Haymitch flopped back onto the chair across from me and stretched his legs out onto the ottoman. He regarded me silently for the longest time, his eyes sharp, a frown playing at his lips.

I wondered if I should be saying something, but I really had no clue what he'd want to hear. That I had had a crush on her since our very first day of school? That I watched her in the hallways, but always seemed to get too flustered to say hi? That I fantasized about how her hair would feel in my fingers? That I spent my nights wondering exactly how her lips would taste if we kissed? Or maybe how her… Well… I'm 16. I would guess he already knew that much.

Haymitch steepled his fingers under his chin and looked thoughtful, but he still said nothing.

"Look, I know it's ridiculous, OK? I know that we're won't rise above the Capitol and live happily ever after. I know that one of us has to die in the arena, and… Well. It's not OK, but… It's not going to be her. I won't let that happen." I was determined and I plunged forward, getting the words out in a rush. "I hate myself that I never talked to her until the day of the Reaping. I always wanted to, but… I didn't. Is there any way I can tell her what I feel now, or will that just fuck us both up?"

"It depends, sport. Do you want her to know she's loved or do you just want to get laid before you die?" Haymitch said what he was thinking and it was logical enough I guess, but it made my temper flare again.

I shoved myself to my feet and headed for the door, not even bothering to spew the string of obscenities that were rollicking in my head. "Goodnight, Haymitch."

"It was an honest question, son." He hadn't moved from where he sat, but his voice held more sincerity that I'd ever known he was capable of. "You're staring death in the face and I'm willing to bet my entire stash of Ripper's finest that you haven't had all of the experiences you'd like. I've been there, remember?"

"It's not about sex," I growled, turning back to face him.

"It was for me," Haymitch said with a shrug. "Then again, I didn't even have a crush at the time, let alone someone I'd been pining for from afar for a decade."

"I just want her to know I thought she was beautiful. And perfect. And amazing. And… And… Worth it."

"Worth it?" Haymitch looked confused by my choice of words.

"Yeah. She'd get it," I said with certainty. "Doesn't matter if you do."

"Go to bed, kid. I might have an idea, but… I gotta think about it before I get your hopes up."

"Yes, sir," I said, turning back to the door and without another word, I stepped into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind me.

I walked quietly down the hall towards my room, hesitating outside of Katniss's door for a second. I could just knock… See if she's up… Maybe tell her everything I've just told Haymitch. Of course, he immediately thought I just wanted to lose my virginity before I died. Katniss would probably come to the same conclusion. And castrate me. I decided to see what kind of plan Haymitch had. If he comes up empty, I'll just have to blurt it all out to her. And, of course, risk castration. Sometimes, I wonder why I fell for Katniss instead of some of the girlier, softer girls at school. They can be fun to look at, sure, but none affect my heart or my brain like she does. And even though I'm 16, for some reason, those two organs seemed more important to me than the other one I could mention. OK. So, maybe dying a virgin played a little bit on my mind. I chuckled to myself, just amused that I could somehow think of sex in a time like this.

I continued my walk to my bedroom where I changed into pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and drifted off in record time. I felt like I'd just closed my eyes when I heard a banging on my door. I rolled over and looked at the clock. 6:15 a.m. Breakfast started at 8, so I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to ignore the sound.

The next thing I knew, Haymitch was in my room, throwing clothes my way, chortling that he had a plan and that if it worked, it would make for the most sensationalistic Hunger Games ever televised. I assumed he was drunk or maybe high, but when he yanked the pillow and blankets away from me, I saw that he was shockingly sober and clear eyed.

"Come on, boy! Get up! We have to talk to Effie before Katniss is up. Get a move on!"

Then he was gone, practically dancing a jig out of my room.

I got up quickly, threw on jeans and left the room in the t-shirt I slept in. As I walked down the hall, I ran my hands through my hair, trying to make the curls lie flat as to be presentable enough that Effie wouldn't be too frustrated with me. I opened the door to the dining hall and was greeted by smells that my family and friends might would've killed for (haha) back home. I jerked my head in the direction of the food and Haymitch rolled his eyes and nodded his assent. I quickly filled my plate and sat down across from my Mentor and my Handler. Haymitch still looked gleeful and Effie looked like she might cry. I reached for the salt shaker in the middle of the table and she actually grabbed my hand, her eyes welled up with tears. She pressed her lips together and nodded, squeezing my hand tightly before she let go.

I felt bewildered. I looked at Haymitch and he grinned. "It's brilliant, Peeta! Brilliant!"

I nodded slowly and then took a bite of egg, I chewed slowly and swallowed before I said, "What is?"

"Who can resist a love story?"

"What love story?" I asked, interested in spite of myself. I took a sip of hot chocolate.

"You and Katniss, dear boy!" Effie crowed.

I'm sorry to say that she wasn't too pleased with my manners when I sprayed hot chocolate from my mouth all over her face. I didn't mean to, it just surprised me. She made an awful face and excused herself to go wash up.

"Haymitch!" I hissed. "You were supposed to help me figure out how to tell Katniss, not broadcast it to the whole damn world."

He just snickered into his coffee. "Son, you don't understand. _You_ are going to broadcast it to the whole damn world and then some. Because, tomorrow night, in your interview you are going to confess that Katniss has been your unrequited love pretty much since the day you met her."

I gaped at him like a fish for a second and then I picked up my knife to spread jam on a roll. "The hell I am."

"It's perfect, boy! All of Panem will eat it up! Talk about making them love you! People will be _obsessed_ with the two of you. And if the people want it, the Gamesmakers will make it happen. If we play our cards right, I think they might be let there be two victors—I mean, hell, boy. Who'd want to see a teenager kill the girl he loves? Or vice versa?"

"Are you a fucking lunatic?" I hissed, because it was that or yell at the top of my lungs. "Of _course_ they'll want to watch us kill each other. It's the fucking _Hunger Games_, Haymitch. It's been about bloodshed for as long as the Games have existed!"

"Exactly!" His eyes twinkled and I wondered if I could kill him with my jam knife. "It being about the star-crossed lovers from District 12 would be so new! So different! _Trust me_, _kid. This has every chance of working!_"

Effie came back a moment later and said she'd woken Katniss. Without thinking I again reached up to try to smooth out my hair as much as possible. Effie choked back a little sob and Haymitch snorted a laugh into his coffee cup. I admit that I blushed.

A few moments passed before Katniss walked in. In that time, Effie asked me if I could put into words what I loved about Katniss. Haymitch started telling me that I would have to really make it believable. Effie informed me that although I loved Katniss, there was certain, shall we say, _etiquette_ that would have to be followed in the arena. To which Haymitch cackled, "Yeah, but sex _does_ sell, kid" and he winked at me. I slumped in my seat and wished I had never confided in the old drunk.

"Shut up, Haymitch," I pleaded. "One thing, though… Katniss can't know about this yet, OK? She won't let us do it. I know her, OK?"

Haymitch and Effie agreed to leave Katniss in the dark for the time being and Effie called me noble. There were plenty of words I could think of for myself, but noble was _not_ at the top of the list. Stupid. Naïve. Idiotic… Oh yes. I had a lot of words for myself right now.

Then, Katniss came in and fixed herself a plate. Obviously, she noticed we quit talking, but chose to focus on her food rather than the lack of conversation. Finally, to break the silence, she said, "So, what's going on? You're coaching us on interviews today, right?"

"That's right," Haymitch confirmed.

I kept my eyes on my plate and I fiddled with my fork. I felt her look at me, but I couldn't look up right now. If I did, Effie would make that weird keening sound she kept making when "overwhelmed by love" or something and Katniss would stop all of this before it started. I was certain of it.

Katniss took a huge bite of eggs and said, "You don't have to wait until I'm done. I can listen and eat at the same time."

Haymitch nodded. "Well, there's been a change of plans. About our current approach."

"What's that?" she asked, her voice immediately sounding suspicious.

Haymitch made it a point to not look at me as he shrugged. "Peeta has asked to be coached separately."

I finally forced myself to look up from my plate as I felt Katniss's steely eyes burning into me like the coal from back home. As our eyes met, she looked hurt for about a millisecond and then, they hardened into something akin to pure hatred and my heart felt like it plummeted into my guts.

"Good," she said coldly, her body shifting ever so slightly away from me.


	2. Chapter 2

I hadn't even realized that Katniss's body had been angled slightly towards mine until she turned. I felt sick to my stomach. She was pissed. That much was obvious. I have to admit I was surprised she cared one way or the other.

The rest of the meal passed with me staring at my plate, unable to think of anything I could say. Finally, I offered to get her a refill of hot chocolate but the daggers she shot me with her eyes made it clear that the tentative friendship we'd forged since leaving District 12 was a thing of the past. I stood from the table and paused behind Katniss's chair. I opened my mouth, to blurt out the truth when I saw Haymitch shake his head almost imperceptibly at me. _Please?_ I pleaded with my eyes, but instead of nodding, Haymitch rose from the table abruptly and said we should get started on training for the interview.

When we ended up back in Haymitch's room, he surprised me by not going straight for the booze. Instead, he sat in the armchair he'd chosen last night and gestured at my place on the sofa. Suddenly, he let out a guffaw and I wondered yet again about the man's sanity.

"You sure know how to pick 'em, kid."

I sat back, choosing to not respond to his bait.

Haymitch chuckled to himself for a couple more minutes before he finally shook his head and rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

"Are you finished?" I asked, eyebrows raised, my expression exasperated.

He held up his hand and gave one more snicker and then looked at me innocently. "Yeah, kid. I think I can go on, now."

I rolled my eyes to the heavens and wondered just what I'd gotten myself into.

I have to admit. By lunchtime, I'm pretty convinced that Haymitch is a genius. At the very least we'll have sponsors fighting to keep us alive just for the drama and at most, he's right… We just _might_ be able to change history. My hopes aren't hung on that, of course, as it's an astronomically small possibility, but I know, now, that I have the odds in my favor of keeping He interview went Katniss alive.

She, of course, had spent the past four hours with Effie and Katniss looked positively surly when she entered the dining room. I gave her a little wave and if looks could kill, I'd be dead and buried before the opening gong sounded. When her back turned, Haymitch fluttered his eyes at me and I snorted into my turkey leg. She glanced back at us suspiciously, but by then I was shoveling in my lunch and Haymitch was downing something from his flask. Instead of sitting next to me as she had been, Katniss sat at the head of the table, distancing herself from me. It made my heart ache a little. Hopefully, though… If all went well, she would understand what I felt tomorrow night.

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The interview went better than I ever could have hoped for. When I admitted that my crush was none other than Katniss Everdeen, the gasps and sighs in the audience were resounding. I couldn't help but glance at the screens along the walls of the Circle, catching the strangest looks flit across Katniss's face. First confusion, then comprehension, then a flush of embarrassment… She was even prettier when she blushed. It made her look vulnerable, and that was a look I'd only seen on this girl once. Sure, I'd been watching Katniss all of these years, but it was that day when I threw burned loaves of bread to her in the rain that I realized I wasn't just curious about this coal miner's daughter. Somehow, even at twelve years old, I'd known I felt something in my soul for her. Having a chance to help her that day… It was well worth the beating I'd suffered at my mother's furious hand. Even as my father wordless put ice to my cheek that night, I knew I'd do the same thing again in a heartbeat.

I felt the corner of my mouth twitch up into a grin as I looked at her, but then she glanced at her image, magnified by hundreds of times on those screens and ducked her head. Damn, she was pretty when she was flustered. I shifted my attention back to Flickerman, but he was smiling like he could read my thoughts. I felt my own cheeks heat slightly, but he was worth his weight in gold, drawing attentionback to the love story we were creating.

I tried to get into the same elevator car that Katniss was in, but a swarm of people were asking me questions about how long I'd known that I was in love, if Katniss had known, if we had ever shared a kiss… I lost her in the racket and ended up taking another lift to out floor. I stepped out as soon as the door opened, in a hurry to try to talk to Katniss, but instead, I found myself eye to eye with her. I opened my mouth to speak but before I could she shoved me with all of her might.

I'm a pretty solid guy, but grace isn't one of my attributes. Before I could catch myself, I stumbled backwards. The backs of my thighs bumped into the pot of flowers to the side of the elevator . I was heavy enough to send the entire thing tumbling. It shattered as it hit the ground and I ended up on my ass in the shards of pottery, my hands bracing the fall and saving my tailbone, but being cut to shreds by the broken urn.

"What was that for?" I had thought that her blush meant something it obviously did not. I hadn't expected her reaction and hope had filled me at the sight of her vulnerability that maybe… _Good one Mellark_, I thought. _What'd you think? She was going to be waiting here for you to throw her arms around you and declare her undying love?_

"You had no right! No right to go saying those things about me!" Her voice was raised and her eyes were blazing.

I really am an idiot sometimes. I was humiliated that I'd even entertained the possibility that she could have been flattered instead of embarrassed by my confession. And now, instead of being able to slink off to my room to hide my burning cheeks, the elevator doors opened and we were joined by our Handlers.

"What's going on?" Effie gasped. She sounded a little hysterical, especially as she eyed my bloodied hands. I knew she could see any chance she had of being promoted slipping away. "Did you fall?"

"After she shoved me," I grunted, jerking my head at Katniss. I didn't want to look anyone one of them in the eye. They all knew how I felt about Katniss. Hell, the entire damn _country_ knew how I felt and now I looked like a fool because it was obvious my feelings were not reciprocated.

"Shoved him?" I could feel Haymitch looking at me, but I couldn't lift my eyes to his. I hated myself for thinking it but if he gave me an "I told you so" look I might start crying. I felt beyond stupid and really, I just wanted to go hide.

"This was your idea, wasn't it? Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the entire country?" Katniss had turned on Haymitch and was yelling at him just as loudly as she had at me.

I didn't look up but I said, dumbly, "It was my idea." I pulled a chunk of broken glass from my palm and studied it. "Haymitch just helped me with it."

"Yes! Haymitch is very helpful. To you!"

"You _are_ a fool," Haymitch sneered. Then, it dawned on me. He was mad _for_ me. I could hear it in the anger in his voice. I was too humiliated to be angry, but he seemed to have no problem expressing his frustrations at Katniss. "Do you think he hurt you? That boy just gave you something you never could have achieved on your own."

"He made me look weak!"

"He made you look _desirable! _And let's face it, you can use all the help you can get in that department. You were about as romantic as _dirt_ until he said he wanted you. Now they all do. You're all they're talking about. The star-crossed lovers from District Twelve!"

"But we're not star-crossed lovers!"

Haymitch grabbed Katniss's shoulders, and pinned her to the wall. I almost spoke up, almost told him to get his hands off of her, but embarrassment had given way to anger and now I was just seething.

"Who cares?" he roared. "It's all a big show. It's all how you're perceived. The most I could say about you after your interview was that you were nice enough, although that in itself is a small miracle. Now, I can say you're a heartbreaker. Oh, oh, oh! How the boys at home fall longingly at your feet. Which do you think will get you ore sponsors?

I was surprised that Haymitch was covering for me. I guess he knew I was embarrassed. It must be pretty bad to get pity from a drunk, but he had given me a little bit of an out. I could try to play it off as a ploy to get sponsors. If Haymitch could think this quick on his feet drunk, I was really curious as to how sharp his mind could be when he was sober.

Cinna put his arm around Katniss's shoulders and said quietly, "He's right, Katniss."

She seemed a little defeated, the anger finally sliding out of her words. "I should have been told so I didn't look stupid."

Portia glanced at me before she said, "No, your reaction was perfect. If you had known it wouldn't have read as real."

I knew Portia was trying to tell me she believed that Katniss really might have some kind of feelings for me, but I didn't need her pity. I threw down another chunk of bloodied glass and said, "She's just worried about her boyfriend."

I looked up at her as I said this, trying to gage her reaction and was rewarded with a blush.Funny. It had been that very blush that made my stomach tingle with anticipation in the interview. Now, it just made my heart feel like it was dropping to my shoes.

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Whatever." I wanted to leave it at that, but I had to try to cover my wounded pride. "But, I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it. Besides, _you_ didn't say you loved _me_. So, what does it matter?"

_Yeah. Just a bluff. My heart doesn't feel like it's made of lead. _

She turned to Cinna like I hadn't even spoken. "After he said he loved me, did you think I could be in love with him, too?"

I saw a sly grin crossed Portia's face before she piped up, "I did. The way you avoided looking at the cameras, the blush."

"Looked real to me."

"Yeah, I could see it."

"I believed your expression."

Everyone agreed, speaking as if they were confirming she hadn't looked foolish, though their words were clearly meant for my lovesick ears.

"You're golden, sweetheart," Haymitch said. "You're going to have sponsors lined up around the block."

There was a lull, then, and I felt her gray eyes on me. I couldn't bring myself to look at her for fear she'd see that I _had_ meant it when I confessed I loved her. I had to just go with the bone Haymitch had thrown me. It was all an act to get sponsors. As long as I didn't have to look her in the eye, I believed I could play it off. I studiously continued to pull shards of pottery from my hands.

"I'm sorry I shoved you."

I shrugged, trying to look like I was unaffected. "Doesn't matter. Although it's technically illegal."

"Are your hands okay?"

"They'll be alright."

God knows they'd heal faster than my pride and they hurt a hell of a lot less than my heart.

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Please remember that reviews are what writers of fanfiction live for! I have a lot of ideas swirling my head, but I have a hard time being motivated when I don't feel anyone's enjoying 'em. So, if you like my stories, you should review—don't just set up an alert, or a favorite. I've had a lot of those, recently. Even just a second to say "Love it" or "Why did you…." Make a writer's day!

Probably just one more chapter to this fic—it's a shorty.


	3. Chapter 3

I followed the group into the dining area even though I was in no way hungry. There was a throbbing at my temples and at the base of my skull, probably from how tightly I'd clenched my jaw. I rolled my neck around and tried to loosen up the tension that had built. No good.

The table was laid with a clean white cloth under the china and fine cut crystal dinnerware. I sat down heavily in my chair and opened my mouth wide, trying to get the tightness in my jaw to cease. Again, I had no luck. I felt Katniss looking at me from under her lashes so I set my jaw and offered a tight lipped smile to Portia who sat next to me. I heard a quiet "hmpff" from Katniss as she busied herself with her napkin. Whatever. My emotions were still too raw to try to process anything more at the moment. I reached out for my own napkin and left a dribble of blood on the clean white cloth.

Damn. I had hoped the blood flow would have slowed, but I suppose a few of the nastier punctures in my hand might need medical attention.

"Oh, Peeta! " Portia exclaimed, wrinkling her nose at the speckling of blood on the tablecloth. "Let me take you to medical, love. They'll fix that right up."

I nodded and followed her obediently from the room. In the hallway as the door clicked shut, she whirled to me and threw her arms around my middle. She was a short woman and my height prevented her from a normal hug. I was surprised by it, but I needed the physical contact. I hugged her tightly, resting my chin on her head and felt a scratching in my throat. I cleared my throat and took a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. I was emotionally drained and I knew that Portia knew it.

She stepped back and looked at me, her violet eyes full of understanding. "I know it hurts, Peeta. I know." She leaned in for another tight hug. "Let's go get those hands taken care of, OK?"

Again, I simply nodded and followed her like a young child. She didn't say anything else to me as we walked and when we got to the triage area she simply explained to the medic that there had been an accident and I needed some medical attention. He nodded and turned from his computer screen to face me and his eyes lit up.

"One of the star-crossed lovers from District 12!" He reached out to shake my hand and then recoiled as he saw the blood . "How on earth did that happen?"

"I… Got off balance… And... Fell..." I stammered, not wanting to say that Katniss had been the cause. She would be in trouble for fighting before the Games had begun.

"It turns out Katniss likes it rough" Portia explained, her expression guileless.

"Don't we all?" he snickered. He looked at me appraisingly for a moment and then said, "Well, if you need an extra set of hands to hold you up… Or, you know… Anything else… " He clapped his hand on my back and let his hand linger there. I know he felt my shoulders stiffen and he looked at Portia. He wasn't embarrassed by my obvious discomfort; instead, he just seemed a little confused. "Let me just get some rejuvenation salve. I'd hate for those hands to dampen the rest of your evening."

I'm glad he hadn't taken in my mouth hanging open and the blush that stained my cheeks. No sooner was he out of earshot than I hissed, "Portia! What the hell? Katniss likes it rough? And what the holy hell was he… Did he just… I'm not gay!"

Portia just shook her head and laughed at my bewilderment.

"You don't have to be gay to enjoy variations in sex. And about Katniss, just go with it. Your infatuation is precious, Peeta, but I don't think harmless little school boy fantasies will keep the Capitol going for as long as some other… Shall we say… Deviations." Portia looked at her fingernails for a moment and then smiled sadly at me. "Trust me, love. I've grown up here, remember? It's all fine and good that you probably dream of nothing more passionate than kissing her, but… This is a different world than what you know. Your purity is refreshing, but it won't be understood by these people, OK?"

"What makes you think I'm so pure?" I asked, my voice gruff, my cheeks still burning, trying to tell myself that the idea of Katniss liking it rough was _not_ going to play prominently in my dreams. "I've... I mean... I could've…" I trailed off, embarrassed.

Portia's laugh was a musical tinkling sound. She patted me on the shoulder. "Oh, Peeta, please don't ever take up poker, OK?"

The doctor came back with a stainless steel jar of a thick, foul smelling salve. He spread it over my palms and then wrapped my hands with soft cotton bandages. "Now, these cuts will be healed by morning, but you might want to ask your pretty little girlfriend to go easier on you." His smile was predatory and I felt a little nauseated. Portia was right. These people were freaks.

He held out a card. I reached for it, confused before Portia stopped me.

"Nice," she sneered, knocking the card from his hand. "He's from fucking District 12. They don't do things like we do. Leave him alone, Claudius."

"He'll learn. They always do." With a sly smile, he nodded at me and then sat back down at the computer.

Portia and I walked back to the dining hall in silence. As we got the door, she turned and smiled at me sadly. "Don't let the Capitol change you, love. I've seen it before and you… You _and_ Katniss. You're both better than this hellhole. But, of course… I didn't say that. If I did, the odds were never again be in my favor."

She looked searchingly at my eyes for a moment before she whispered, "Have faith, Peeta. I wasn't lying. I do believe she loves you. She just has to realize it herself."

Then, before I could respond, she opened the door to the dining room and took her seat quickly.

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Just a bit of a fluff chapter. I want people to see what the Capitol is like—and how different it is for these kids from the other Districts. Remember, reviews are love. The last chapter of this particular fic will be the rooftop chat that Katniss and Peeta had the night before the Games… Hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

I wondered what had been talked about while Portia and I had been gone. Now that we were back, an uncomfortable silence hung in the air. The only sounds throughout the rest of the meal were the tinkling of crystal and the clink of silverware on china. I suspected that the tension was largely due to my confession and Katniss's subsequent reaction. I had been so focused on my own heartbreak that I hadn't given much thought to how awkward the situation was for everyone else. Now, on top of my heartache, embarrassment, and irrational jealous anger, I felt a flood of guilt. Even if no one really wanted to admit it, I knew that our handlers liked the both of us and would be deeply saddened if we were to die in the arena. So, let's see… I'd made a fool of myself, embarrassed Katniss, and now, instead of creating some last happy memories, everyone was left in an uncomfortable silence. Well, at least I had no illusions that I was suave.

Effie wiped her mouth daintily with her napkin as the red-haired Avox girl cleared the table. Haymitch winked at me before he let out a wall rattling belch in her direction. Effie let out a startled little squeak and then glared at him. I couldn't help but hide my smile behind my bandaged hand. I would miss these people. I felt a shiver at the base of my spine. The Games began tomorrow. Would I ever get to have a meal with those I cared about, ever again? As we dawdled over the table, I looked over at Katniss and caught her looking at me. When she saw that I noticed she turned away quickly, her cheeks flushing.

_God, she's so pretty. _Even after tonight's turn of events and the Games looming like a dark cloud over tomorrow, I knew I was still head over heels for this girl from the Seam. Her tongue slipped out to moisten her lips. It was such an innocent gesture, but I felt an all too common reminder of just what other effects Katniss Everdeen could have on me. I shifted in my chair uncomfortably, my brow furrowed slightly, thinking about Portia's explanation to the medic. My brothers were older than me and talked about girls and sex all the time. Mostly, it seemed to be just that, a lot of talk, but even on the days they were one upping one another's stories with vivid attention to detail I'd never gotten the impression that sex was _meant_ to be "rough". I suppose I was a cheesy romantic at heart because I found the idea of "making love" much more arousing than the thought of a meaningless "fuck". Portia had hit the nail on the head about my inexperience, but she had then called it endearing. She wasn't entirely right, though. My thoughts when I was alone went well past just kissing, but I realized now, that she was right to a point. Even my absolute wildest fantasies were, no doubt, tame compared to the Capitol's standards. Though, as we were an oddity in this place, maybe it would give Katniss even more of an edge.

Effie wanted to watch the video replay of the interviews. I wanted to beg off and try to get some sleep, but I knew she and Haymitch would want to rehash each answer from the other Tributes in an attempt to find weaknesses in their personalities, leverage that they had unwittingly gave in their answers. I took my seat on the large black leather sofa beside Katniss. She immediately pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight and blocking us out as much as possible. I leaned back and stretched my long legs out in front of me, crossing my feet at the ankles.

We sat through the whole viewing and then began to dissect the interviews.

Cato… He was the violent one. He bragged about his strength and how good he was with a sword. Effie shuddered. "He'll be the one to beat, you know. "

I snorted.

"Are you insane?" Katniss was looking at me like I'd grown a second head.

"What?"

"Why on earth are you laughing about him? He's a monster, Peeta!"

I cut my eyes over to Katniss and said, "Have you ever heard of overcompensating?"

Haymitch, Cinna, and Portia all snickered and Katniss looked at them, puzzled.

"No. What's that?"

Haymitch took a noisy swig from his glass and gestured for me to continue.

A chuckle escaped my throat. "It just means he's bragging because he's _trying_ to be intimidating."

Katniss looks at me as if I've lost my mind. "Peeta," she said, her voice that of one trying to explain a concept to a slow child, "We saw him train. He will be lethal. I think he's just being honest."

I shrugged. "If you want my opinion, Thresh is the one to watch out for. He didn't play to the crowd or even attempt to hype himself or his abilities."

"Thresh scares you more than Cato?"

I nodded. "And that other one… Clove? I think she might be a little crazy."

"She doesn't scare me," Katniss sniffed.

"She should," I responded in all seriousness. "She can throw a knife like you shoot an arrow. And she just seems like she's looking forward to this."

"They have to. They're Careers,"

"I suppose…" I agree slowly. "But, something about her just seems like she really enjoys the idea of killing."

"Like that horrid girl, Johanna Mason." Effies shudders again.

Haymitch shook his head. "I think Johanna did what it took to win. And this is the Hunger Games… You don't win without taking some lives." He sat, staring into his glass for a moment and then downed its contents, getting up immediately to refill it.

As the liquid splashed into his glass, Haymitch spoke. "You should form an alliance with the Careers. With your training scores, they would be crazy to not take you."

"We should _what_?" Katniss was incredulous.

"You heard me. Those in the pack survive the longest."

"Yeah. Til someone puts a knife through your throat while you sleep," Katniss scoffed.

"The trick is to survive as long as you can with them and then get the hell out of there before they turn on you."

Neither Katniss nor I responded to this. This conversation had taken the tone of the room down with it.

Effie was crying openly, now. She came over to squat down between Katniss and me, reaching out and holding each of our hands while she sobbed. "You two will make it. I _know_ you will. You are the best Tributes it has ever been my privilege to sponsor." She gave our hands a final squeeze and then stood, wiping streaks of make-up from under her eyes. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if I finally get promoted to a decent district next year!"

I hear Katniss let out a quiet hiss and know that Effie's comment hurt her feelings. I feel fine about it, because I know she just said that because she felt too vulnerable. That and I get the impression she wouldn't mind getting away from Haymitch. I flash her a warm smile as she leans over to peck each of us on the cheek before leaves the room.

"Any finals words of advice?" I ask Haymitch, who is standing near the wet bar, his arms crossed over his chest.

He nods and then speaks seriously. "When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. You're neither of you, to go up to the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. Just clear out and, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water. Got it?"

"And after that?" Katniss asks, her voice quiet, but determined.

Haymitch looks from her steely eyes to my own blue ones before he says all that's left to say. "Stay alive."

Katniss nods once, curtly and then leaves the room as Portia comes over to me to say goodbye.

I hug her tightly, thanking her and Cinna for making us unforgettable. She has tears in her eyes, but when she squeezes my hands in hers, she says, "Peeta, this isn't goodbye. It's just a 'see you later'."

I nodded and then looked over to Haymitch. "I'm not going to let her die, Haymitch. If I join up with the Careers, I can keep them away from her, at least until she gets her bearings in the arena, right?"

"Son, are you sure she's worth this? If you do that… And betray the Careers' trust, they _will_ kill you. No ifs ands or buts."

I meet his eyes with more confidence than I have in hours. "Yes, Haymitch. She's worth it. I love her, remember?"

He shook his head and sighed noisily. "She thinks you're playing a game for sponsors, Peeta. Even if your plan were to work… I believe she would kill you herself before you could explain. She'll take a lot of convincing, that one."

"I don't care. I want her to make it through. Even if it means I don't, OK?"

Haymitch pressed his lips together, refusing to agree.

"Any gifts… Anything… It all goes to her, OK? If I die, well… I'll die as nobly as I can. I want her to know, though, that I meant it. That she's been the only girl I've ever loved. That _she was worth it._"

I saw tears glisten in his eyes for just a second before he shut them tightly and shook his head. "You're a fool, kid. But, fine. I'll try to keep her around, too."

"Thank you, Haymitch. I know you will." Before he could stop me, I hugged him tightly. I felt him tense and start to pull back, but then he surprised me by returning the hug and patting my back.

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I wanted to take a shower, but the medic had told me that I would need to leave the bandages on overnight for my hands to heal. I needed whatever strengths I had for the Games, so instead of a shower, I stripped out of the clothes from the day and just pulled on some warm pajama bottoms.

I lay on my bed for a time, staring at the ceiling, wondering what tomorrow would hold for Katniss and me. What would the arena be like? I knew Katniss was a climber and for her sake, I prayed for trees. I knew I was too heavy to be able to climb, but the idea of her being safe made the idea of a jungle or dense forest appeal to me. I was strong, yes, but I was a lousy hunter. The Career Tributes usually made a point of securing the food and weapons first. They hadn't had to learn to hunt like Katniss so getting a food stash early on was very important to them. Maybe… I could play up the baker's son angle and get them to take me on—I know that they were heartless, so the idea of me being in love with her would weaken me in their eyes. If I said I'd trade her life for access to their food they might believe it. Genetics had given me a much stockier build than most in 12 and it would help in their eyes, too, that I looked like one of them. I rolled over and off of the bed. In the huge mirror I flexed, looking at the definition in my pecs and biceps.I tried to view my body as a girl would, but I didn't know what they found attractive. I wondered what kind of physique Katniss liked. Gale was a thin guy. I knew he was a great hunter, so of course, he was light on his feet. How could he not be? Those in the Seam, they starved. I'd never gone hungry. I wondered if Katniss saw me as soft. She knew I was a little clumsy… Did she see the bulk on my frame and assume it was fat? Did she even notice that I had bulk? Did she wonder what my body felt like? She knew I was strong. I'd been ridiculously flattered that she'd told Haymitch about my strength and that I'd wrestled some in school.

The weird body polishing that they did to me had done wonders. My body looked tan and taut. My abdominal muscles stood out in sharp relief from my body when I tensed. There had been some discussion about how much of my body hair I would get to keep. In the end, thank God, my arms, legs, chest, lower stomach, and more tender areas got to remain as they were. Apparently, it was a first. Those in the Capitol seemed quite averse to body hair. I didn't know why. The idea of a completely hairless body on an adult just seemed perverse to me. Then again, hadn't I had a sampling tonight of just how wrong this city was?

I felt smothered and knew I needed out. I threw on a shirt and soon found my way up onto the roof. I could hear whoops and hollers of the people down in the streets. None of them were wondering if they would be alive tomorrow night. They were too busy enjoying tonight. Until the Reaping, I'd been similar to them in that aspect. I didn't worry about the future. I assumed I'd run the bakery, maybe get married and have children if I ever had the guts to ask Katniss out. If not… Well… I didn't know. But, I didn't worry about tomorrow. I was different now. I was scared shitless thinking of tomorrow.

I sat and watched the revelry, jealous of their carefree partying. Gooseflesh rose on my arms as the wind whipped around the top of the building. I knew I should head inside, but I wanted to enjoy just a few minutes more of "freedom" no matter how convoluted it was.

"You should be getting some sleep."

I felt my body stiffen, but I _did_ manage to keep from screaming like a little girl. I had to learn to take the small victories, I guessed. I shook my head, chuckling at my own lunacy.

"I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, afterall."

She stepped from the shadows, dressed in a long white fleece gown. Her feet are bare and probably freezing, but she doesn't seem uncomfortable. I stepped back from the railing and let her lean over to look at the partiers. My eyes took in the very slight swell of her hips and I had to restrain myself to keep from touching her hair, which was flowing down her back, loose, and dancing in the wind. As the wind blew it harder and it whipped around her face, she reached back and bunched it up in her hand, pulling the mass over her shoulder and holding onto it.

"Are they wearing costumes?" she asked, her back still to me.

"Who could tell with all the crazy clothes they wear here," I responded with a rueful shake of my head. She turned to look at me and I lost myself in her eyes. "Couldn't sleep either?"

Still looking me in the eyes intently, she said softly, "Couldn't turn my mind off."

I pressed my lips together for a moment, willing her to say, "I was thinking about you, Peeta." It didn't happen. I sighed, "Thinking about your family?"

"No. All I can do is wonder about tomorrow." She sighed. "Which is pointless, of course." Her gaze lowers from my eyes and slowly down my torso. Without really thinking, I feel myself tense, hoping my musculature is visible through this thin cotton shirt.

"I really am sorry about your hands."

"It doesn't matter, Katniss. I've never been a contender in these Games anyway."

She sounded angry with me when she snapped, "That's no way to be thinking."

I shrugged. "Why not? It's true. My _best_ hope is to not disgrace myself and…" I thought of the doctor who'd propositioned me earlier in the night. I thought of the frivolous conversations of my prep team as they worked on me… I thought of Haymitch, unable to function without a bottle… I felt positively sick to my stomach.

"And what?" Her voice held a challenging note that made me wonder if she believed in happily ever after. Something tells me she didn't.

I felt helpless. "I don't know how to say it exactly. Only… I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?"

She shook her head, looking at me with poorly disguised pity.

"I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

She bit her lip as she mulled over what I was saying. The cool air and wild lights from the dancing fools below us colored her cheeks as the wind blew tendrils of her hair lose. I was overwhelmed by just how beautiful she was. I felt my breath quicken and desire building in the pit of my stomach.

"Do you mean you won't kill anyone?" Instead of looking at me like I was stupid, Katniss looked fearful for me, as if I'd just said I'd kill myself at the sound of the gong.

"No…" I hesitated for just a moment, trying to phrase this properly before I spoke. "When the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only, I keep wishing I could think of a way to… To show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games. "

"But you're not. None of us are. That's how the Games work."

She didn't get it. "Okay. But… Within that framework, there's still you, there's still me. Don't you see?"

She still didn't. But, she hadn't seen what I've seen. I didn't want to be anything that the Capitol ccould enjoy.

"A little. Only… No offense, but who _cares_, Peeta?"

"_I do_. I mean, what else am I _allowed_ to care about at this point?" _Me!_ I wantded her to scream. Care about me! She didn't, though. But… I think the truth dawned on her and she knew what I want her to say. She stepped back, her eyes looking trapped.

"Care about what Haymitch said. About staying alive."

I wanted to scream. I've heard my brothers say women can be frustrating and God knows my dad puts up with a lot from my mother, but… This is just more than I can take and I spit out, "Okay. Thanks for the tip, _sweetheart_."

Her eyes flashed and she snapped, "Look. If you want to spend the last hours of your life planning some _noble_ death in the arena, that's your choice. I want to spend mine in District 12."

"Wouldn't surprise me if you do," I sighed. "Give my mother my best when you make it back, will you?"

"Count on it," she snapped, turning from me abruptly.

I watched her walk away, sad that she didn't understand, angry that she refused to open her damn eyes and see how much I loved her, and still aroused by her sheer presence. So many conflicting emotions were never meant to be in one head. Instead of going to my room to try to rest, I leaned my back into the wall and continued to watch the revelry in the streets below.

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The end. Of this fic, anyway. I plan to tackle the cave scenes next. Please review if you like it. I know the last chapter was a little weak, but I needed a catalyst for Peeta to truly be disgusted by the Capitol. Plus, I just could hear one of the prep team saying, "Oh, Katniss likes it rough" LOL So, it had to be done.

I hope you enjoyed this fic as I REALLY enjoyed writing it. Reviews make stories happen faster, though, so… You know what to do!


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